Let the Hunger Games Begin
by Aaya123Woods
Summary: The whole Capitol has already said yes. The important ones, anyway. Gonna be a long one. A really long one. Some love always helps. :) T is cuz I'm slightly paranoid.
1. Capitol

They are sitting around the table, worrying. The whole country has been shaken by the Dark Days, and shocked by the Capitol's final blow. The most powerful of the Capitol sit around a table.

"We can't! Do you want another Dark Days?" shouts a middle-aged ruddy-faced man.

A young pretty woman puts her hand on his arm. "Papa."

She looks at the president, a frown playing on her red lips.

"My father is right. If you want to have respect, and ultimately, submission, from the districts, we must treat them with kindness."

The president puts his face in his hands. Finally he turns to his advisor.

"Neel. What do you think?"

Remus Neel stares at him. He says, "Do whatever you can to keep the districts in line. If you must do this, then you must."

"We'll vote on it," says a woman with steel-gray eyes. Despite the fact that she has white hair, she is in no way frail.

"All who disagree with this preposterous idea?" blustered the red-faced man.

He and eight other people, including his daughter and the old woman, raise their hands. The president counts.

"All in favor?" asks a young man, notorious in the government for his money-and his habit of taking his unlimited anger out on everyone. He and nine people raise their hands.

Neel stares at the president. "You didn't vote," he observed.

"Yes, yes."

"Your vote will decide," points out a balding, mild-mannered man.

"For my son, Coriolanus, I say yes," bursts out the president finally.

The young man cracks a smile.

"Let the first Hunger Games begin."


	2. District 1- Diamond

**AN: I would just like to say, the kids are NOT all going to have family issues. Kay? Diamond is HAPPY. There is no abyss of sadness in her soul because her mother hates her and her dad is always busy. She does not put on a mask every day before she goes to school. She does not stare at the stars, wishing for a better life. So just shut up.**

I flutter my eyelashes at him. I can't remember his name, but he's a scrawny, unpopular kid. Who cares? He'll go to school tomorrow yelling that he's dating Diamond Ender, and everyone will laugh because there she is in the corner, kissing her newly acquired boyfriend.

I always do that. It cracks me up.

Anyway, I lean over and brush my lips against his. He gapes at me. Stars, he's ugly.

"Seven tomorrow, at the park entrance, 'kay?" I say, acting shy. As if.

"Uh, um, I mean, sure," Ugly says.

I snatch up my purse, flash him a quick smile, and walk home.

When I get home, Sparkle, the maid, answers the door.

"Hello, Miss Ender," she says, dropping in a curtsy. I dip my head.

"Hey, Sparkle. Where're my parents?" I ask.

"Your father and sister are in the den and your mother retired early with a headache."

I stroll into the den, flopping onto my favorite armchair. Sapphire is flipping through the channels.

"Anything good?"

"Nope. All news and cartoons."

"Ooh, cartoons! Cartoons!" I exclaim.

"Oh, shut up, Diamond."

I grin.

"Sapphire," warns my father without looking up from his book.

I leap onto Sapphire. We're strong from being on the wrestling team, and we roll from Sapphire's favorite couch to the floor, taking the remote with us. I feel the remote under me, and hear the channels changing rapidly. When we stand up, each trying to pretend we won, I hear Jonah Flickerman, and apparently Sapphire does too.

She immediately turns her attention to the screen, because she is totally and irrevocably in love with Jonah Flickerman.

Flickerman shuffles his notes, glances at them, and clears his throat.

"And we have one final announcement to make, folks. President Snow, remembering the Dark Days, has elected to hold a yearly competition, called the Hunger Games. To find out more, go to channel twelve."

The screen blinks into a commercial. Sapphire lunges for the remote and flips to channel twelve.

I grin at her and punch her shoulder.

"_Ow, _Diamond."

It's not Flickerman this time. Some bozo from District 4.

"Folks from the Capitol, the districts, and mainly the Capitol!"

Idiot.

"We have some very exciting news, everyone! The President has decided to hold an annual Hunger Games! One boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be chosen at random from each district, called tributes. An eligible girl may volunteer after another girl has been chosen, as is for the boys. There will be one slip for the twelve-year-olds, two for thirteen-year-olds, and so on. You may sign up for tesserae, which will allow you enough grain for one person. Each time you ask for grain for one person, you will put your name in one more time. Tributes will be taken to the Capitol, and for a week, given extensive training on weapons and survival skills. There will be a parade in which they will have costumes representing their districts. Tributes will also have a three minute interview with Jonah Flickerman. Finally, they will all be put in a large arena, where they will fight and learn to survive on live TV. Sponsors will send gifts when they are most needed. And after weeks in the arena, there will be one left. The winner. Those lucky kids will live in a Victor's Village, which will be constructed in each district."

The meaning in his words sinks in, and I think there is a ringing silence throughout Panem. And then I realize that both me and Sapphire, at sixteen, are eligible.


	3. District 1- Copper

**I know I haven't updated this in a while. Any nice people out there? No? Oh well. I don't own tHG.**

* * *

I hurry home, grocery bags clutched in my hand. The market is three blocks away from my house, but we live in the slums of district 1, and you could say that I'm very cautious.

Others say things like wimp, mama's boy, scaredy-cat, teacher's pet, and worse.

Whatever.

They're not poor.

They don't live in a place where there's three rooms, total.

They don't have to take care of their sick mothers.

* * *

When I get home, I dump the two bags of groceries on the table, the food for the week. It's lucky I just turned thirteen, so now I'm allowed to work after school.

I quickly throw some vegetables and whatever junk you need for broth and put it on the fire. My mother is in the living/dining room/kitchen where we keep the tiny TV. Somehow, she looks even frailer and skinnier than when I left forty-five minutes ago. Her mouth is gaping in shock. When she sees me, she beckons to me.

"Copper, listen to this!"

A district 4 guy is talking, sounding important, but I notice that he stumbles over the words 'annual' and 'hunger.'

"- to hold an annual Hunger Games! One boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be chosen at random from each district, called tributes. An eligible girl may volunteer after another girl has been chosen, as is for the boys. There will be one slip for the twelve-year-olds, two for thirteen-year-olds, and so on. You may sign up for tesserae, which will allow you enough grain for one person. Each time you ask for grain for one person, you will put your name in one more time. Tributes will be taken to the Capitol, and for a week, given extensive training on weapons and survival skills. There will be a parade in which they will have costumes representing their districts. Tributes will also have a three minute interview with Jonah Flickerman. Finally, they will all be put in a large arena, where they will fight and learn to survive on live TV. Sponsors will send gifts when they are most needed. And after weeks in the arena, there will be one left. The winner."

My mother tries to stand up and pace, but her knees buckle and she has to sit back down.

"Can you believe this? They took your grandparents for Peacekeepers. They took your father, aunts, and uncles in the rebellion. Now they're going to take our children. I won't let them! I won't!" She starts coughing. I jump up and put a blanket around her. I take the soup off the stove and give it to her. She's breathing erratically. Panic nags at the corners of my mind.

I can't lose my mother.

Can't.

* * *

**If I get a review, I'll update. Promise. I already have ten chapters prepared.**


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